Pervert
by catsintheattic
Summary: Percy never wanted to be like this. But sometimes, following rules doesn’t help you to overcome your deepest wishes. It doesn’t help to make you less of an outsider. You’re still a pervert and rightfully driven away.


**Author's notes**: Written for Violet-Quill's HP Slash Superchallenge on Livejournal. I pulled these three prompts out of the hat: James/Cedric, Remus/Rodolphus, Ron/Arthur/Percy. These were supposed to be easy pairings! Lol. There was not way I could have written chan or incest – and I felt no connection at all to Rodolphus. This left me with Percy/Ron and a dash of Arthur/Molly-het on the sideline. I hope you enjoy the story! Jaelle n'ha Gilla provided her speedy beta-reading skills.

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**Pervert**

"_Mollywobbles? I love you."_

"_Hmmm." She smiled back at him._

_The warm glow in Arthur's eyes was not to be mistaken. Such fondness. Such intimacy. Such love. So much desire. He lowered his head again onto her body. _

_A soft hiss escaped her lips. "Oh yes, do that again. Ah- Arthur."_

_And Arthur did it again, if the sounds that escaped her throat were anything but an indication for what was going on in her body, in the parts of her mind she kept so closely from her children. _

Growing up with five older brothers, Ron had quickly learned that the stork didn't bring the babies. Of course, he knew his parents had to have sex every now and then, even though the mere thought made him flinch. Which was why watching his parents felt so utterly wrong. It wasn't even hot. And yet, like a bystander watching a broom-crash, he couldn't look away.

Only the creaking of the door made him flick his head around.

Percy stood in the doorframe. "Ron!" Percy's gaze turned from Ron towards the wall behind him.

"What are you- Wait a mo- Who are- are these? Are these... mum and dad?" Percy's voice sounded squeaky, but then he found his usual air of righteousness. "Have you gone mental? Ron!"

Percy raced across the room, and instead of pushing the button of the machine, simply pulled the plug. The Muggle movie device their father had brought home just a few weeks ago came to a halt with a pathetic whimper. The wall that had showed Arthur and Molly having a go at each other only seconds before was its usual cream coloured white again.

Ron sat on the couch and stared back at Percy, his mind blank.

Percy swelled from desk clerk at the MoM to the Minister of Magic himself. "Ronald Billius Weasley, I don't believe what I've just witnessed! You invaded our parents most private moments while they are away with the Order. This is ... I have no words for my disgust." He looked like Ron had served him a plate of worms. "Do you have anything to say to me?"

Ron felt the heat rising up his ears, partly from shame and partly from the need to defend himself. He pushed the shame aside and went for the attack. "Anything to say? To you? Mr. High-and-mighty? I think not. You'll turn me in no matter what, won't you? What a feast for perfect Percy, to show his perverted brother to his place?"

"Don't be stupid, Ron." Percy's lips were so tight that Ron could barely hear him. "Do you really think that I would enjoy humiliating mum and dad with the knowledge that you've spied on their intimate moments? I won't do that to them. You will clear up the mess you made and then go to your room. Do you understand me?"

Ron nodded, dumbstruck, and turned towards the projector. "I'll have to switch that on again, Percy, to rewind the film. Hope that you haven't ruined the apparatus with your overeager rescue mission."

"Just do it, Ron, I don't care how," Percy growled. "Mum and dad won't be back for another few hours. But I guess you already knew that when you chose this night for your spying and that perverted movie session. Aside from your obvious lack of honour, you have not a single streak of responsibility. Your sister could have seen this as well."

"She couldn't. She's at Luna's."

Percy's words finally seemed to fail his anger. He simply assumed a superior look and left the room.

***

Ron lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He knew that Percy was right, even though he would never admit it to him. He couldn't even explain to himself why he had done it. It hadn't happened on purpose. Though, when he stumbled upon the roll of film marked 'hot strong love' he couldn't resist. He didn't know what to expect, but even when he realised that this was indeed a very private film, he couldn't stop himself from watching. It was creepy, and yet, he sat with his eyes glued to the wall, his subconscious mind filling away the images for later use.

Percy was an idiot for interrupting him like that. Of all his brothers, it must be Percy to find him in such a stupid situation. Ron was certain that Percy would milk this for all its worth. He wasn't sure about what Percy would force him to do, but some reprimand would come. Ron gritted his teeth. Percy could eat slugs, the pompous git. All the talk about humiliating his parents. "When you called Dad a 'silly old fool who lacked ambition' the other day, were you thinking about humiliation then as well?" Ron asked the Chudley Cannons poster on the wall. The players merely waved back at him.

But since Ron was going to pay for watching anyway, he could at least use his newly gained knowledge. It hadn't been until recently that Ron had started to develop a deeper interest in girls. Hermione, of course, didn't count. Ron still remembered the drama with her and Krum from the Yule Ball. And Padma had been such a bore. But Fleur – he still had a little crush on her. Ron knew there was no way to convince Fleur to do the things with him he'd seen tonight, but to imagine her doing them, that would be ... it would feel very ... nice.

Closing his eyes, Ron slid his hand into his boxers and pulled them down just enough to free his cock. The image of Fleur dancing in his mind, it didn't take him long until his breathing staggered and he came all over his hand. He wiped it clean at the sheets, uncaring for the mess. He woke up to sticky sheets so frequently that a little more staining wouldn't matter in the slightest. After a while, when his come felt rather cold and uncomfortable on his skin, he picked up his wand from the bedside table. Yawning, he cast a quick Cleaning Charm towards the direction of his groin and relaxed back into the mattress.

He didn't know how much time had passed when a knock on the door startled him out of his almost sleep. "Yeah? Who's there?"

"It's me, Percy. I'm coming in."

***

The room reeked of the sexual overstimulation of boyhood. Ron had cast a Scourgify, but neglected several stains on the sheet, not to mention the thick air. It filled Percy's mind with images of hands touching dicks. Ron lay on the bed, propped up on his elbows and looked at Percy with a mixture of expectancy and loathing.

"How are you?" Percy asked in a low voice.

"What do you think?" Ron's voice was reduced to a mere growl. "Just tell me what you want from me and get over with it."

Percy stared. Ron's defiant nature was familiar to him, but this level of negotiation was unexpected. He quickly tried to gather his wits.

"What's your offer?"

Ron shrugged.

Percy tried to gain more time. His head was swimming with unwanted images. Sometimes, it could be hard to grow up with so many brothers, all of them individually ignorant to decency.

"This room reeks of sex, do you know that?"

"D'you want me to open the window and change the sheet?" snarled Ron.

"No." Percy looked at Ron and then, one of the images took charge. It made him feel queasy – this was what to be _Imperiused_ had to feel like. But he couldn't do this with Ron still looking at him. "I want you to close your eyes." And when Ron didn't react, he added, "now."

He found that his voice lacked the confidence. Indeed, it sounded a lot like he was asking for a present he knew he didn't deserve. He almost couldn't believe his luck when Ron complied.

Ron, with his eyes closed, didn't look nearly as much Gryffindorish as before. Percy sat down on the edge of the bed. "Move a little."

Ron obeyed again, albeit reluctantly. "What," he asked, "do you want?"

Percy didn't have an answer and so he stayed silent. When he grabbed the blanket, a strained sound came from Ron's throat. "Don't," said Percy, "it's all right." It was meant to calm Ron almost as much as himself. He slowly pulled the blanket away from Ron's middle. As expected, Ron wore his boxers in a rather unusual way, ideal if a boy wanted free access to his private parts.

They lay before him, the balls nice and full, the penis wrinkled and shrimplike, its most tender parts still wrapped in silky foreskin, looking eager to be touched. Well, he, Percy, was eager to touch. But first, he had to take care of Ron, who had tensed up to the point that he almost lost contact with the bed. "It's all right," murmured Percy, "relax. I won't harm you." Ron sank back a little into the mattress. "Relax" – it worked like an incantation, this time resulting in a relieved sigh from Ron. His eyes were still closed and his head rested against the bed's headboard. His groin showed no signs of excitement.

Percy swallowed. He didn't want to mess this up.

"Ron?" His voice was rough with need. "May I ... may I touch you?"

Ron's eyes flew open. "Why'd you want to do that?"

Percy shrugged. "Don't know. I just ... want to do it. All right?"

"You won't tell them?"

"I already told you I won't." Percy swallowed again, but his throat felt parched nevertheless. "I wouldn't even if you said no."

Ron nodded. "Okay, then. Do it." And he slowly shut his eyes.

Percy lifted his finger and drew a tender line along Ron's flesh, delighted to feel its immediate little twitch. He stroked it again and was rewarded with another fond growing motion. It was as silky to the touch of his fingers as the looks had indicated. Percy lowered his head closer to drink in the sight.

The freckled flesh, so tender, growing and glowing into a perfectly shaped bow. Hardness covered in silk, with little pearls of moisture dripping from the top. It was pulsing under his fingers. "Beautiful," he murmured and kept stroking, cupping Ron's balls with his other hand and massaging them lightly.

His nostrils flared and yet, he didn't feel repulsed, simply took the smell along with the look. Ron's penis was now fully awake under Percy's fondling, and he longed to feel the silky texture with his lips. But that was out of question – he couldn't dare that! And yet, why not take it all while he had the chance? Why not ask Ron to touch him back? They could bring each other off at the same time, joining their gasps and moving their hands to the same beat.

But no, this was wrong. But then, hadn't it always been, right from the beginning?

His stomach trembled, flooding his mind with guilt, but he kept on stroking. Guilt, always guilt: when watching the well-toned bodies of the athletes in a Quidditch magazine or when silently wanking to the images in his own mind. He had never been free of guilt.

Percy let out an anguished whimper. This was wrong, wrong on so many levels. What would Penelope think of him if she knew? Ron was his brother. And he wasn't even into ... not like him, Percy. He had tried, so hard, to overcome it. To truly love that sweet, sweet girl, and yes, he loved her. Just not ... like that. Not like he'd loved Bill, their eldest brother – and Ron, he resembled Bill so much. The same gangly tallness. Like the twins, but less cruel.

And now he'd caught Ron and was using it against him. Because wouldn't Ron have turned away, disgusted, if he didn't fear that Percy could tell their parents about what he'd seen in the living room this afternoon? About Ron watching what had been for their parents' eyes only.

It was wrong. His blackmailing, his deceit, but most of all his perversion. And yet he couldn't stop himself from touching his brother. Could he?

Ron shivered under his touch, groaning.

Percy stopped abruptly, staring at his hand, covered with his brother's semen. It felt like it didn't belong to the rest of his body. What had he done?

Ron moved languidly, then he opened his eyes and looked at Percy.

Percy felt naked under all his clothes; his pants were uncomfortably tight and there was nothing he could do about it.

Ron's eyes were dazed with satisfaction. He didn't say a word.

"I," stammered Percy, "I ... I ..."

Ron grinned and Percy couldn't tell if the smile on his brother's face was warm or cold. His teeth were chattering in spite of the summer heat. A moment later, he found himself at the door, not knowing how he'd got there. Without another word, he fled the room.

***

Percy's bag was packed. He didn't take much with him, just his Ministry robes and a bit of change, so there was no need to shrink his small load.

Standing in the backdoor of the kitchen, Percy took a last look around. The door to the living room stood open, and he could see the familiar jumble of furniture and things that indicated that this was the home of a large family. His mother's knitting. The chair and table in the corner where his father was investigating his latest Muggle device – an old toaster. The rug in front of the fireplace – favourite spot of the twins to plot their next ruse. The book Ginny was currently reading lay side by side to Ron's broom-repairing-kit on the living room table. The large collection of family photos on the wall behind the sofa, with one photo of Charlie tethering a dragon and another of Bill in front of the Gizeh pyramids. Parents, older and younger brothers, a little sister – a large family indeed.

A family he was no longer part of. He couldn't be. There was his loyalty towards the Ministry. But there was his family to think of as well. He still shuddered when he thought about the row he had had with his father the other day. Why couldn't Arthur see that the Weasleys were heading for disaster with their support of Dumbledore's crazy ways? Why were they all so quickly to believe that he, Percy, had agreed to spy on them? He'd never do that – they were his family, after all. It was true, Fudge had hinted at the fact that Percy's presence at the Burrow might give him access to secret information. All the more reason for Percy to distance himself from his family. He knew that he could be pressured into submission. Better to leave the target position, then.

And now, there was also Ron and what Percy had done to him. Surely, Ron'd said that he didn't mind. He didn't even try to get Percy back for it. Yet, Ron knew. There was no telling what an increased pressure on all of them could do. Better to leave, before Percy's presence became too much. He'd always been like the sixth finger trying to fit into a glove. He had tried to follow the rules. He had tried to be a good brother and an even better son. He was none of it. They knew. They probably had known it all along, while he had been fighting for recognition, to be a part of the family. Even though the rules didn't help in the slightest, they were all Percy had. Now that the surface was cracking and it was only a matter of time until they would throw him out. Better to take matters into his own hands.

Percy turned around and stepped outside. Softly, he pulled the door shut, walked the four steps into the garden and Apparated away.

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The End


End file.
